Better off without a father
by Target Zero
Summary: Life was never easy for Tim Riggins, especially not when his father was around. Written by Kaze-Chan *Edit* I will re-write the ending and extend this by a few chapters, so stay tunned.


"Alright M. Riggins, here's your prescription to help with the nausea. Remember to rest a lot for the next week and no football for atleast 3 weeks." The doctor held Tim's gaze to make sure the last point was clear.

"Yes sir." Tim winced as he slid off the table when the movement jarred his ribs. He collected himself mentally before attempting to walk towards the door. The doctor watched a little concerned.

"Son, is anyone coming to pick you up?"

"Yes" Tim lied, "my brother was just leaving work." He gave the physician a convincing smile. The doctor nodded and continued down the hall to his other patients. Tim walked slowly and mechanically to his truck. He was forced to stop on several occasions as waves of nausea ripped trough him. He felt light headed, tired and dizzy; all symptoms of his concussion.

He slid into the familiar driver seat of his truck; wincing as the sound of the door shutting echoed through his skull. He pressed his head against the steering wheel trying to ease some of the pain, his arm instinctively wrapping around his cracked ribs. "Shit" he stammered.

He started the truck with no real destination in mind. He couldn't go back home, not with his father still there. Tim knew that the next confrontation with his father might land him a stay at the hospital and not just a visit. But he didn't have many options.

He pulled up in front of a low two story house; The Collett's. He sat there for some time, allowing the black dots to fade from his vision. He threw the truck in park and started the long walk up the driveway. He leaned against the porch railing to stop the dizziness; he really couldn't wait to be over that feeling.

He rang the doorbell a few times and waited. The door and the light flew open after what seemed like an eternity.

"What do you want Riggins?" Tyra stood in the doorway, not at all pleased to see him. Tim shielded his eyes from the offending light, keeping one arm around his ribs. His mind was working over time to form words.

"Hi Ty..ra" He slurred. He closed his eyes as millions more little black dots swarmed his vision.

Tyra crossed her arm in disgust. "Tim, what did I tell you about showing up here drunk." Her voice was low and lethal. "It's 3 in the morning!" That's why Tim always liked her, she was the toughest girl he knew and not afraid to show it.

"Tyra, please…" this was harder than he thought. He was so tired and all his energy was concentrated to keeping him up right.

"Look at me Riggins!" Tyra eyed him furiously. Reluctantly, Tim brought down his arm revealing an angry array of bruises along the right side of his face leading up to the 12 stitches near his temple. "Oh god, what happened?" Tyra closed the gap between them to examine his face. He inhaled sharply as her fingers touched his bruised jaw line.

She led him into the living room and sat him on the couch. Tyra quickly notice how he favoured his right side and how his movements were slow and sluggish. Fatigue was catching up with him and fast, and his eyes were beginning to close on their own. He was tired, dizzy and hurting all over.

He stretched out on the couch gladly letting his eyes shut out the light. Quietly, Tyra slipped a pillow under his head. She kneeled down beside the couch, brushing stray stands of hair from his cut to get a better look.

"Thank you, Tyra." It was barely a whisper and his voice sounded hoarse. Tyra sighed but watched as he drifted off to sleep.

"What am I going to do with you." She took his left hand in hers; turning the hospital bracelet to read the label.

**

Tim slept for the better part of the next two days. His concussion made him nauseas most of the time and he was hardly able to keep anything he ate down. By the third day, his face was less swollen and the bruises were less purple.

"Argh. This sucks." Tim balanced a bucket on his lap while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Although his stomach had no food to throw up, dry heaves continued to wrack his body, causing more strain on his ribs.

Tyra watched helplessly, rubbing slow circles on his back. "Here." She handed him a glass of water and his medication. He took the pills effortlessly and leaned his head back. "You'd think you of all people would be used to this hung over feeling." She lightly joked.

He didn't bother opening his eyes. "Being hung over doesn't hurt this much." His breathing slowly evened out. "Shit, what day is it?"

"Tuesday." Tyra made her way to the bathroom to clean out the bucket. "why?" She returned in seconds with a cool cloth, replacing the one on Tim's forehead.

"I have practice; already missed two." He slowly got to his feet, catching Tyra's arm as he swayed from the change in altitude.

"Nah ah Riggs. You're not going anywhere." She easily pushed him back into the couch. "You're in no shape to play. You can't even stand up." She helped him sit back down. "And besides, all your football stuff is at your place and I am not letting you go back over there while that drunken asshole father of yours is still there."

"But babe, Coach will kick me off the team if I don't show up." He wrapped his arm around his ribs. "And I'm not afraid of my father." He added as an after thought, not sounding convincing.

"Ok, One: don't call me babe." She pointed her finger at him. "And Two: Tim, look at what he did to you." He didn't answer, just closed his eyes. Tyra sighed, she knew Tim well enough to know that he wasn't going to talk about it. "And as for Coach kicking you of the team, you just let me worry about that." She waited till he was asleep again before getting up. She debated with herself about going to see Coach or just calling. She had never really spoken to Coach Taylor before. She picked up the phone and dialled the number Tim had given her. It rang a few times before going to the voice mail.

"Hi um it's Tyra Collett. Tim Riggins won't be playing Friday's game," she made her way outside. "he's got a concussion and some broken ribs. Doctor says he shouldn't play for atleast 2 more weeks. Well, just thought you should know. Bye." She only started thinking of how stupid her message sounded after she hung up the phone as she sat on the front step.

**

The second Coach Taylor heard Tyra's message, he was on his way to Riggins' house. He had left phone messages with Walt Riggins, the boy's father, before but hadn't heard from Tim in three days. After two knocks, Walt opened the door.

He took another sip from his beer. "Coach." He nodded, clearly drunk.

"Hey Walt, how's everything." Coach Taylor glanced passed the man, taking in the mess and disarray. "Is Tim around?" Walt polished off his beer in one last swig.

"Nope, haven't seen that good for nothing runt." Walt raised his right fist. "Not since he tried telling me how to do my job; showed him to have a little respect for his father." He spat on the front lawn as if to emphasize his point. Coach Taylor eyed him sceptically.

He noticed how Riggins' Panthers football sing had been pulled out of the lawn. "Thank you sir. You have a good day now."

Coach Taylor was sure he was breaking every speed limit on his way to the Colletts. If he was worried before, he was near panic now. Since Tyra had called, he hoped she would know where to find Riggins. Relief flooded over him as he spotted Tim's truck parked across the street from the house. He pulled up behind it, spotting Tyra sitting on the front step.

Tyra took a deep breath as she watched Coach Taylor walk up her driver way. She wasn't sure if Tim wanted the coach to know everything but decided it might not be a bad thing.

"That was fast." She remarked. Tyra explained everything she knew to Coach Taylor. She brought him in to see Tim who was still sleeping. Though Coach Taylor hadn't yet said anything, Tyra was happy that he had come to check up on Riggins. This was what the boy needed, a good male role model for once. When Tim woke up, he and Coach had another long discussion together. Tyra claimed she had some things to pick up in town to give them some privacy.

**

Two weeks later Tim was back on the field. Walt Riggins had taken off again and since Billy wasn't back from his business trip, Coach Taylor had insisted that Tim stay with them until things settled down and returned to normal. Tim didn't complained, he liked living with the Taylor's. He felt safe with them, normal. He also felt grateful to Tyra. Not many others would have taken him in like she did.


End file.
